


Hidden Battlefield

by orphan_account



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Cutting, Gen, Self-Harm, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-12 11:23:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4477442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Armin didn't know what to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hidden Battlefield

**Author's Note:**

> Found this in my hard drive. Posting for nostalgia reasons, ha.

“E-Eren…” a choked whisper was all Armin could manage as he watched his best friend disappear into the titan’s mouth. Armin fell to his knees, sobs racking his frail body. Eyes downcast, he shuddered as tears streamed down his face, dripping onto the roof of the house he was on. The roof under him groaned, caving in on itself suddenly. He didn’t care. He hardly made a sound as he landed on the tough, dirt ground with a dull thud, grimacing slightly as he noticed the various shards of glass imbedded in his arm.

Armin’s whole face was red, tears still welling at the corners of his eyes. He sat up slowly, extremely thankful that the titan had taken interest of something else and waddled off in the opposite direction. But what did it matter? Eren was gone. The blonde sat against one of the crumbling walls, eyes shut tightly, knees to his chest, shivering.

The glass in his arm was stinging. Armin reached one hand to yank one of them out, whimpering as the stinging intensified. It felt surprisingly good, like he was getting the punishment he knew he deserved for always holding everyone back. For letting Eren, the one person who he truly cared for, die, just like that.

Adrenaline rushed through his veins as he pulled out the other shards out slowly, reveling in the sharp, hot pain. Warm blood trickled down his arm from the jagged puncture wounds. Slightly disappointed in the lack of glass in his arm, Armin smiled. This wasn’t like him at all.

Armin’s eyes sparkled as he pulled a shard from the dirt next to him, holding it up to his eyes. With shaking hands, Armin dragged the glass along his bare arm, shivering with pleasure as the sharp edge reached his wrist. This was wrong; realization hit him like a cinder block. If it was so wrong….why did it feel so good? So… freeing…

Armin’s hands were shaking even more, blood running down his arm from the newly inflicted cut. A smile etched itself onto his face. His expression was pain-filled and almost disgusted at his own behavior. Nevertheless, his hands moved to dig the glass into his other wrist, sweat dripping down his face.

Armin’s conscience was begging him to stop, but Armin ignored it, smile slowly morphing into a grin as the hot pain seared through his arm. And he laughed. He laughed despite the barely acknowledged tears dripping off his cheeks, all thoughts of Eren abandoned. Armin’s shaking hand slipped, deepening the cut, a whimper escaping his throat.

Suddenly he felt faint as he watched the thick, red liquid run down his arms in slow, thin rivulets. So… sleepy… Armin’s eyes fluttered closed, his hand which held the glass falling to his side uselessly. It was so nice… the silence…the dark…

* * *

 

“He’s waking up.” A muffled voice shook Armin from sleep. His eyes opened slightly, seeing a fuzzy image of… E-Eren? No... just Mikasa… Her face was downcast. Someone else rushed to her side. C-Connie?

Armin struggled to sit up, gasping as pain seared through his arms. His clothes were splotched with crusted blood, as were his arms. The cuts were already scabbing over, fresh as they were. He felt a sudden longing to tear them open again and watch his blood flow.

He shook his head, feeling tears come to his eyes as he was reminded of the events prior. Mikasa’s expression showed worry.

“Armin.what happened here? Did you do this?” She gestured to his arms.

“Uh… I… no!” Armin’s voice was weak and shaky, squeaking every now and then. “I… fell. And hurt myself.” Connie’s eyes narrowed further, and Armin could tell he didn’t believe the lie.

Mikasa nodded slowly.

“That’s it? You fell?” Her voice was steady and reassuring, as though urging him to tell her what had really happened.

“Yes.” Armin lied softly. He stood up painfully and paced towards the crumbled, open side of the building. Connie exhaled softly, but just loud enough to hear the almost disappointment within it.

He could never tell them the truth.

Pity was the last thing he needed.


End file.
